TotenFolio

The hammer breathed in Snatch’s grip; it swayed back and forth and threatened to drop down onto Laura’s head at any second. The bright flashlight beam stayed focused on Snatch’s face, and the officer holding that flashlight continued barking orders.

His words could have been in a different language.

Snatch didn’t hear them.

He focused on Laura.
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The tree line loomed ahead as Snatch stumbled forward, on his way to the wonderful woods. The trees called to him as he felt the heat of the flaming farmhouse behind him. The flickering fire danced and threw wicked shadows against the dark tree line, shapes that Snatch thought he could see the Reaper and the dead mouse in.

Snatch’s senses stumbled less than he did. He could hear the sound of gravel crunching as more squad cars pulled into the farmhouse’s driveway and smell the sweat beading on each officer’s forehead. He saw the shadows swirling against the tree line as he stumbled toward the thin first line of trees.
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I killed Mother.

Snatch’s words ran through his head as he spoke them. They seemed unreal, twisted, warped, surreal. He gagged and fought back the rush of acid up his throat. His tongue convulsed in his mouth.

“No,” he said, turning to look at the Reaper in his old farmer guise. “It’s not possible.”
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Phillip’s heart hammered in his chest as he sat at the table, surrounded on all sides by observing clergymen. Even over the sound of rushing blood in his ears, he could hear their whispers and musings that they dared speak aloud while they all waited for the Minister.
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Surrounded by the blinking lights and humming fans of multiple computers and test equipment, John and Richard discussed the experiment.

“They call it The Darkness,” John said. “The place you go when you finally realize.”
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Laura’s eyes rolled back in her head after the gun’s barrel connected with her temple. It only took seconds for her temple to swell and change to a dark purple color. She stayed conscious and fought her eyes back into position, so she could look at Snatch.

“What are you going to do now?” she asked. Her voice trembled and weakly crawled forward.
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The world pitched and rolled beneath Edgar Snatch as he walked toward the narrow trees at the edge of the forest. He could feel Laura’s eyes on him, and rather than the glee he’d had moments before, he felt a deep dread seated in his stomach.

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Snatch opened his eyes and prepared to answer the Question Queen’s questions, but his eyes opened to a different setting than the one he expected.

His hands were cuffed and he sat in the rear seat of Laura’s squad car. He peered through the divider and sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, between his teeth.

Laura drove in silence.

“What’s going on?” Snatch asked. His voice dragged itself through the muggy humidity of the thick air in the police car.

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It’s been a while since I posted something to this blog of mine. In the time since my previous post, I haven’t had very much time to write or work. Slowly, I’m immersing myself back into a schedule of healthy freelancing and writing on my own projects. I want to take a moment to share with you my two newest stories. They are flash fiction written for the Twitter #FridayFlash group.

Cubicles and Brimstone

“My greatest weakness? Uh, I’ve been known to be quite stubborn, to the point of clashing with upper management.”

“Oh?” Mr. Moulton asked. He slipped a pair of reading glasses from his jacket pocket and leaned the spectacles carefully against his nose, so he could look over the simple one-page resume.

Continue reading Cubicles and Brimstone.

Spasms

The ring finger on Isaac’s left hand twitched for the third time in a day which concerned him greatly. He stared down at his hand and watched the finger for a short period. No spasm ran through his hand while he was watching, but he was sure that the tiny hairs right above his second knuckle were brimming with excitement. He  squeezed his eyes shut, wrote the movements off as his imagination, and returned to his work.

Continue reading Spasms.

Over the coming weeks, I plan to retool this blog and bring the primary focus to my fiction.

It’s often hard to find time to devote to your personal writing, especially after a long day at work or when inspiration runs a bit thin. Everyday life is sometimes a writer’s worst nightmare when trying to find time to work on that novel, blog post or short story. To help fill the time in between larger chunks of writing, many have turned to shorter fiction, sometimes to the extreme, in order to stay inspired and creative. I wanted to give you five sites that will keep you writing, even if extra time is not your strong suit. Each site on this list is a bit different, but they all focus on one thing: Short fiction that will keep you writing.

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